because we're not dead yet
by ayebydan
Summary: "I guess I started my life as a muggle and then learned I was more and then I was made more again. I made my first true friend and it led me to war and sacrifice and kill or be killed. I have come to terms with the fact that my life goes the way it goes and I just need to react to it in the best way that I can." Hermione states flatly after a few moments of tense silence.


because we're not dead yet ~

Hermione Granger /Draco Malfoy

werewolf fic

This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.

This was written for creaturefest on dw. Thanks to the mods for allowing me some time after my home broadband gave up on life. As for the story I can only say it kept following its own idea after the first couple of paragraphs created a more complex world than I might have delved into. Canon is the base of it all but I have come up with my own take on werewolves clearly and also broadly stretched the what-if questions based on if us muggles noticed the wizards scarpering about. It is best to be kept in mind that Draco and Hermione will be OOC to some extent because the back-story of this is far more than anything they actually experienced in canon. I hope it still stays true to them though and proves an enjoyable read. Draco refers to Artemisia Lufkin when talking of previous minsiters who was the first female Minister for Magic.

The War had cost them society as they knew it and as they try to adjust to their new lives as werewolves part of Harry Potter's pack Draco and Hermione must also come to terms with their new status as mates. The secret of magic is out. The Muggles are attack each other with nuclear weapons. Draco doesn't know what a missile is but he really just wants to empty the Malfoy Manor and burn it all down without his ancestor's silver collection claiming ownership of one of his limbs.

The war was long, hard, and brutal in ways Draco could not have imagined when he had signed himself up for it rather than accepting his mother's single offer to spirit him away to the Americas. His father's side was dead. Well, maybe some of the Death Eaters and their supporters had made it out alive but Draco doubted they would show their faces for decades. The dragons had burned so much of the landscape. It was a severe warning to any who might again try and take down the Ministry of Magic and their civilisation. It had, of course, uncovered the secrets of the magical world to the muggles were now altering between accusing each other of nuclear warfare, and despite Granger's many explanations Draco was still not sure he understood what that even was, and threatening to send missiles into the heart of their communities.

Draco didn't know what those were either and Granger had not explained that finer point.

Speaking of Granger. Well, that was a whole other revelation he did not want to think about. Voldemort had released a rabid werewolf pack on them as his last stand and even though they had weres on their side too they were outnumbered and could not be protected. So many had been turned. So many. It was unpleasant enough that Potter had managed to establish himself as alpha but the real bummer was the revelation that life-mates were a thing among werewolves. Let's not even mention that Granger was _his_ life-mate.

Sure, that is something he will need to confront sooner rather than later. Later is still an option though, right?

Even if his father was dead and had been on the other side Draco still feels a strong sense of duty when it comes to burying him and taking care of his affairs. Selling everything is tempting but not every member of the Malfoy family had been morally challenged. It seems unfair to sell of their belongings just because they had eventually fallen into the hands of Lucius. The Manor cannot stay though. Not after what it became and what is still symbolises. Weasley, oddly enough, is the one to suggest just torching it and selling the land and that seems as good an idea as any. Draco does not want it to become a shrine. Some had suggested turning it into an orphanage or hospital but something nags at Draco too deeply to let him do that. The place just can't remain standing and that is that.

But first he has to empty it.

Part of him feels guilty for the things he keeps as in some ways they feel tainted but he tries to remind himself that this is his inheritance and he has it at eighteen because his father got himself killed fighting a pointless battle for a psychopath. No less than that, he lost his life fighting with a subpar wand that used to belong to his father because his own was destroyed by Voldemort and Potter had already spirited away Olivander and his supply of new stock. That had been a clever move and Draco had been stunned to learn it was actually Potter who came up with it. Boy with a brain after all.

The regret he expects in the pit of his stomach does not form as he purchases a three story townhouse with attic and basement. It is hardly modest but it is certainly far smaller than the previous Malfoy property and Draco buys it thinking of a couple of children and spare rooms for visitors along with a potions lab in the basement for himself and a library for the future mate he tries to delude himself into thinking he's not thinking about.

Wolfesbane is free and available to all who want to take it under the new government. A third of the wizarding population is now a werewolf thanks to the chaos of the war. It is funded mostly by the seized assets of former Death Eaters and others who were stupid enough to support Voldemort. It is to this fund that Draco plans to give all money that can be made from selling some assets and melting down the gold and silver of various artefacts within the manor when he gladly hands them to the relevant department in the ministry as a donation.

As for the potion, Draco is confident in his abilities to make it himself but there is something reassuring about attending the clinic each month with others like himself to get his potion and talk. He never expected himself to become _that_ person but war changes people. Forges new people and leaves what they used to be in ashes.

Granger is two places ahead of him in the line the first time he attends after settling his father's affairs and learning that she is his mate. Hairs stand to attention all across his body just to make absolutely sure he is not missing the way Potter is staring a hole through his skull given he is standing so close to the woman he calls a sister. Her hair is down and bushy and somehow there is something comforting in that. When the war came her hair was always up and away from her face in case it became a danger.

Taking note of his surroundings it cannot be ignored that so many are in pairs. Daphne Greengrass is standing beside Oliver Wood holding a civil conversation. Hannah Abbot is laughing with Neville Longbottom and an irritated Lavender Brown is demanding that Terry Boot join her in the line. As Draco observes others he notices others observe him or rather the lack of Granger at his side. Sighing, he reflects on everything he has learned since his turning. He will gradually feel more and more drained now that his magic has already recognised Granger as his mate. The world is moving on and it is stupid of him to refuse to move with it.

When each have their potion tucked in their robes Draco makes his move and approaches Granger. _Hermione,_ his mind taunts in rebellion. He can't call her by her surname forever after all.

She stiffens when she notices him by her side but he merely straightens his own back and offers a nod to Ginny Weasley. "A word, Hermione?"

Promptly turning on her heels Hermione stares at him with a passive expression before Ginny puts her hand on Hermione's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "Over here then?"

Draco nods and follows her to a quiet corner of the room. His stomach feels uncomfortable as he tries to put a speech together in his head. Merlin, a sentence would do.

"You are looking well, Hermione. I saw your appointment in the muggle relations department in the paper. Congratulations." Draco states warmly. Hermione stares at him for several moments as if trying to decipher if he is joking or not before offering him a curt nod. "I think we should get to know one another, given circumstance. Not that this is the only reasons I would want to. I'm no longer fifteen."

"So you won't be calling me a mudblood over lattes and biscuits then I take it?"

Draco does not know what a _latte_ is but shakes his head either way.

"Being mated only means we need close contact every so often. That can be done without talking." She points out sternly.

Draco raises an eyebrow and tries to bite back all the horrid things that want to pour from his mouth. "Sure. But I am kind of tired and worn out from war and don't fancy one of attrition for the next century as we glare at each other with our knees pressed together once a week. Surely we can be civil and have dinner and talk about this?"

"I guess I started my life as a muggle and then learned I was more and then I was made more again. I made my first true friend and it led me to war and sacrifice and kill or be killed. I have come to terms with the fact that my life goes the way it goes and I just need to react to it in the best way that I can." Hermione states flatly after a few moments of tense silence. Her arms are folded over her chest and Draco is very aware of the determination and danger in her eyes.

"That is the oddest acceptance to a dinner date I have ever heard." Draco replies in bewilderment.

"Just pick me up at five thirty. In my very muggle neighbourhood." Hermione replies stiffly before pulling her wand from her cloak and conjuring a piece of parchment to write her address on before thrusting it into his hands.

With that she storms off and Draco is left amused and yet somewhat aroused. He no longer cares for the lines between magical and muggle. Potter had brought so many muggle inventions into the pack after the war ended. Everything from candy to technology had been used to better the pack's lives and Draco is not going to let prejudices his parents instilled ruin him against better things.

"I know you were close to your mother." Hermione offers after a few tense moments of silence. Draco stills for a second and then forces himself to relax. She is trying. He must attempt to do the same. Staring at the flower beds set in front of the circular walls of the restaurant makes it difficult though. Some are yellow and some are white. Most call them Daffodils but Narcissus seems so much more beautiful. Only at Hogwarts had Draco learned that the country of Wales took the flower as its emblem. It was something he had never boasted about but held close to himself.

"Yes. I...my parents they-" Draco's voice fades and he turns his gaze from the flower beds to focus upon Hermione instead. "They tried for more children. An heir and a spare as they say. Only I appeared. It caused them...turmoil. Mother doted on me. I adored her. I... _miss_ her."

It feels like he is laying his flesh before silver to tell her that but she merely nods and reaches out a tentative hand to cover his for a moment. "I'm sorry."

He gives a shaky nod before taking a sip of the wine he'd let Hermione choose. It is surprisingly good. He hadn't thought she'd know so much about wine. Or flowers. He coughs. "I did not know you knew so much of flowers? It does not seem like a book you would pick up in general given other topics available to you. OR wine for that matter. You spent a lot of time with the Weasleys and for all my mistakes in the past I am pretty sure ...Molly is it? I'm sure she is not a fan of wine."

Hermione pulls her hand back with a wry smile.

"The wine is easier to explain. I'm an only child like you. My parents thought more on European lines and allowed me a glass of wine with dinner when I came home from holidays. Looking back I wonder if they did it to try and...keep a hold of me. I don't know. I guess I will never know. The flowers come from my parents too. My mother kept flower beds for something to do and I guess we had little to talk about other than what they were."

"Well wine is wine whether made by muggles or magicals and it seems your parents and you have good taste!"

She laughs and shrugs just as their starters are presented. "Just don't ask me to pick out a white. On that front I have no idea."

"Oh I always left that to Pansy." Draco jokes without thinking about it. The awkward silence that falls over the table stills him. Pansy had tried to hand over Potter but then taken herself out of the war in fear. Her name is dirt.

Draco is surprised to see Hermione shake it off. " Pansy was a kid. I'm not going to hold her fear against her. She spend her time away becoming an expert in pinot grigios' did she?"

It could be vicious but it isn't and Draco falls into the conversation happily.

After desert Hermione is the one to request another bottle of wine so Draco eventually feels comfortable enough to ask deeper questions.

"You mentioned your parents? They seem to have a good taste in wine and other...things." Draco states, grasping at something he can connect with. Then, in true Granger for, she throws him off entirely.

"I obliviated them." She blurts out suddenly.

He stares at her. It is not becoming of a Malfoy. It is against everything he has been taught. But he stares at her.

"You...you?"

"It was safer that way. And if I did not survived then they would never know what they lost."

Before Draco can quite come to terms with what Hermione has said she has halved the bill and left and he is left rosy cheeked and flustered.

The letter had arrived with Potter's owl two weeks later because _of course_ Draco knew it was serious when the owl, Hedwig he was sure, stole a piece of his toast regardless of the struggle she would have eating it and took residence upon a china cabinet in his living room.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _As I am sure you are aware current research has found breakthroughs in our condition. Mated werewolves within warded premises soon become what we would deem tame. I feel the pull towards you and as such am sure you feel the same in return regardless of our past. We managed to be civil at dinner after all. To mate would mean we would no longer need to queue for the potion or worry about our wild nature outside of it. You own new property which would make us safe. Surely we can remove our personal strain on public finances and come to an agreement?_

 _Yours in Faith_

 _Hermione Granger_

Draco snorts and throws the letter on the table, ignoring the hoot from the owl as he storms off.

Draco hopes to move slowly after that but the world goes to hell again and their bond just plain _hurts_ The temptation of the transformation itself listening in severity if they stayed with one another proves too much and Hermione is moving in before the logical side of Draco's brain can brace itself. Hermione moves into the Manor while the new townhouse is prepared and Draco struggles with the feelings of guilt that brings with it. He abhors the idea that she must stay there where his aunt had carved _that word_ into her arm. It was after Draco realised the realities of war but before he found a way to get out while taking enough with him to make a difference once he found Potter.

He does not see her often. Things remain awkward after their aborted date. He is aware of her though; her magic is like a beacon to him now. Part of him wants to hate the werewolves for turning him and reducing him to this creature that drags his fingertips gently across the solid oak of a sideboard because there is a flutter of the magical imprint she'd left behind hours before. Part of him craves the feeling of belonging to something bigger than himself and of being protected by it too. Potter does not talk much when he visits but his presence always galvanises Draco into pushing forward with life. His Alpha is one to be served not because he is forced to under duress as with Voldemort but because he feels the sense of accomplishment when the pack is content and he knows he is partly responsible.

Potter's latest visit had ended with him asking for a few books from the pile Draco plans to discard and then a pause before a hand touches his own and he feels the comfort of the pack's magic around and through him. "Give her time, Draco. The move is next Tuesday yeah? I'll send a group round."

Draco has burned himself no less than thirteen times since being turned. As a Malfoy items made from solid silver were a common part of his upbringing and despite them now being horrendously dangerous it is still difficult to turn on the alarm bells in his brain when it comes to saying safe. So when he grabs a goblet from the cabinet he does so without thinking and promptly drops it to the floor with a hiss where it lands with a solid thump. He's aware of Hermione Granger's footsteps a moment later and then her worried face in the doorway. She sees the goblet on the floor and a look of understanding passes her face as she pulls her wand from her pocket and moves to heal his wound.

"They don't have the family crest on them so I figured I could keep them when I threw everything else out. I didn't even think."

"It is taking a lot of adjusting for us all." Granger offers in comfort.

"I did not know you were here. I thought you left hours ago."

Her cheeks redden and then she shifts from one foot to the other. "Sorry. I...I wanted to be home...but we are not ready yet so I came back to help finish up packing. I didn't want to bother you."

"You don't." Draco states simply. "Alpha is going to send some of the pack over to help tomorrow."

He isn't quick enough to work out if Hermione is trying to hide a grimace or a smile but he pulls on his newly healed hand until they are in the sitting room before shoving him towards a couch and starting on tea from the sideboard. "Don't call him that. Honestly, as if the man has not had enough nicknames over the years. He's Harry."

"That is what he is though." Draco states quietly. It is a note of respect to give Harry Potter his earned title. Alpha of the pack. "It is his title and honour. The more we respect that among ourselves the more respect the rest of the world will give us. We have to stay united, Hermione. I heard the mountains in Wales are still burning from the dragons and muggle military are closing in on the area."

If Draco expects her to do anything it isn't scoff before dumping a sugar cube into his tea and stirring it with a golden spoon he had liberated from a great aunt's trunk of belongings. " _Honestly._ Mandatory muggle studies for all those raised outside muggle homes will be first of the classes I plan to get started at Hogwarts."

"I don't follow."

Fixing him with a withering stare Hermione finishes her own cup of tea while absentmindedly turning her wand in the air in the direction of the bedroom she had taken up residence in. No matter how much they would feel the benefit Draco and Hermione do not yet feel comfortable enough to share a bed but that will need to stop from tomorrow because only one has been ordered for the new house so far. She continues to observe her tea and leave Draco waiting until a rather battered yellow tin floats into the room and settles by her side; from within the tin Hermione pulls out two hearty slices of chocolate brownie and dumps one on the side of Draco's plate before continuing.

"Not knowing anything about muggles means you have taken the little information you were able to get your hands on and spun it into panic. Yes, the muggles started looking for us but they see fleeing ants unable to take a stand against them. There are _billions_ of them Draco and they have weapons that...well you have seen what they did to London. All of this has just given them an excuse to escalate into their fuel and trade wars. The hills are still burning because we don't have the resources to deal with it and the Welsh in the area have been evacuated from the countryside just like from all other points of the country. There is little reason for the British government to send fire-fighters into a country they half ignored anyway when they are sending Trident Missiles towards Moscow. Muggles have weapons that can flatten cities and poison them for decades. They have since the forties. I wouldn't concern yourself with them if Harry can negotiate peace."

"This sort of speech is not exactly making me feel better about everything I was told as a child. Some will hear such things and-"

"The rules have changed." Hermione states, firmer than before. "The next time a pureblood supremacist fool wants to start on a muggleborn there won't be any laws stopping that muggleborn setting a bomb off in the main entrance to the Ministry at eight am and blowing the lot of you to smithereens. The Muggle Protection act did not just protect muggles from fools like your father at sports events. It protected fools like your father from the sort of connections Seamus Finnigan has in Belfast. Ask him about it sometime. You will learn a lot."

Draco takes a bite out of his brownie to avoid answering. He is not sure he wants to talk to Finnigan about anything but it seems he is going to have to. He is no longer a decent sized fish in the pond. The wizarding world has been forced into the ocean and they are going to have to find a way to swim.

"Does this mean that the war is not over?"

"Depends how good Avery's negotiating skills are, really. He was right to get out from under his father before it was too late."

Indeed. Avery had managed to avoid the worst of the frontlines while negotiating aid and information from abroad. MACUSA were not easily persuaded to involve themselves with conflict and the dragonfire had stalled everything as the Americans had emergency debates in outrage. The trained hit-wizards and healers had arrived just in time to save scores from certain death in what was left of Poppy Pomfrey's hospital wing at Hogwarts. A newly bitten Draco had been one of them and it was the American weres who helped Harry's new pack learn to turn their new curse into a weapon.

"Do you think he will become Minister?"

"I don't even know if we will have a Minister once everything settles. I am pretty Kingsley will remain in place for a few years if only to offer some stability." Hermione points out dryly. "I don't think our system of government is particularly effective these days."

"Point. You'd make a good Minister. Not so much of a fortune to try buy it for you though I'm afraid. You'd have to do it the old fashioned way though I am very good with words." Draco murmurs and Hermione's laugh really is a wonderful sound.

She adjusts herself on the seat until she's sitting across it and her knees are pressed into the meat of Draco's thighs. His mother would be scandalised. "Travesty. I take it you are going to be my side then?"

"Seems that is going to be the case for some time." Draco points out with a raised eyebrow.

She worries her lip for a moment and then smiles. "So it does. You know female Ministers are rare but not letting gender cloud judgement meant the wizarding world is centuries ahead of muggle Britain on that front."

"Good to know we are winning at something." Draco comments brightly. "You know, Lufkin got us the Quidditch World Cup one year when she was Minister. You should absolutely do that and use it as your campaign promise. Voters are not always the most observant or caring when it comes to politics but we do love our Quidditch."

A raised eyebrow has him shifting in his seat, and for that matters tells him all he needs to know what Hermione Granger thinks about that particular sport, but he holds her gaze. "Perhaps as an added incentive. I think I'll head it with something more substantial and anyway that will be years down the line."

"I thought you liked preparing ahead?"

"I didn't say I was going to forget all about it. Besides, we have more chance of getting the tournament here if longer has passed since the last time. " Her tone is more teasing this time and it encourages Draco to ask her more serious questions about her career plans. Hours pass without either noticing and their china cups are long cold when Draco thinks to make them another. It is not the life he had ever expected to appear before him but he is rather content to let it develop in front of him.

End.


End file.
